Hold the Dream

‘Hey, that’s good news. Like you, I can’t understand why he’s so aloof with you these days, but then he’s a strange one, that big brother of mine. Too much of the Celt in him, perhaps. Anyway, what did he have to say?’

‘Nothing, Miranda, since I wasn’t here. I was out at a meeting.’

‘Too bad. Still, he’s coming to the christening. I know you had your doubts, but he told me he was definitely going to go. He even offered to drive me.’ Miranda groaned in mock horror at this idea. ‘I declined. I was going to go with Grandpops, but naturally he’s escorting Aunt Emma. So I’ll toddle over by myself. Listen, Paula, apart from wanting to say hello, I was wondering if you’d like to have lunch? I’ve got to come over to the store to pick up a package for my mother. I could meet you in the Birdcage in half an hour. What do you think?’

‘That’s a nice suggestion, Merry. I’ll see you there at noon.’

‘It’s a date,’ Miranda said. ‘Bye.’

‘Bye.’ As she began clearing her desk of papers, Paula was suddenly glad Miranda had suggested lunch. Her friend was a delight to be with, and a very special girl, with her naturalness, her sweetness, her gaiety and effervescence. She had a joyous, carefree disposition, and laughter sprang readily to her lips, undoubtedly the reason why her nickname Mirry had soon turned into Merry when she was small.

Paula smiled to herself, wondering what Miranda was wearing today, what surprise was in store for her. The twenty-three-year-old girl had a penchant for creating the most outlandish outfits – costumes really – but they were put together with imagination and style, and she certainly carried them off with élan. They would have looked perfectly ridiculous on anyone else, but somehow they were exactly right on Miranda O’Neill. Apart from suiting her tall, somewhat boyish figure, they were an adjunct to her fey and whimsical personality. Or so it seemed to Paula, who considered Merry to be an original, the one genuine free spirit she knew. Her grandmother was equally fond of Miranda, and said that Blackie’s granddaughter was the best tonic in the world for all of them, because she chased their blues away. ‘There’s not a bad bone in that girl’s body,’ Emma had remarked to Paula recently. ‘And now that she’s grown up she reminds me a lot of her grandmother. There’s a good deal of Laura Spencer in Merry – Laura’s true goodness for one thing. Also, there’s a wise head on those young shoulders, and I’m pleased you two have become such good friends. Every woman needs a close and trusted friend of the same sex. I should know. I never really had one after Laura died.’

Remembering these words of Emma’s, Paula thought: But she always had Blackie, and she still has him; whereas I’ve lost Shane. Funny, though, that Miranda and I drew closer together once Shane had dropped out …

There was a knock and Agnes poked her head around the door. ‘These proofs just came up from the advertising department. Can you give them your okay?’

‘Yes, come in, Agnes.’

‘They’re the advertisements for the spring fashion sales,’ Agnes explained, handing them to her.

After studying the newspaper advertisements for a few seconds, Paula initialled the proofs, gave them back to her secretary and stood up. ‘I’m going out on to the floor for a while. Could you phone the Birdcage, Agnes, and tell them I’ll need my usual table, please. At noon.’

‘Right away,’ Agnes said as they went out together.

When Emma Harte had first opened the café on the second floor of the Leeds store, she had called it the Elizabethan Gazebo, and had decorated it in the style of an English country garden. Such things as handpainted wallpaper depicting pastoral scenes, panels of white trellis, artificial topiary animals, and antique birdcages combined to create a most enchanting little setting.

Over the years, as she refurbished the café, the name changed to match the theme, or vice versa. But always a garden or outdoor motif prevailed, often with an international flavour, as Emma had given rein to her imagination and fantasies with flair and not a little wit. After a trip to the Bosphorus, with Paul McGill, she had been inspired to create the effect of a courtyard in a Seraglio. Mosaic tiles, silver wallpaper painted with peacocks, potted palms and a splashing fountain were combined in the new design. She had called the café Turkish Delight, and had been delighted herself to witness its instantaneous popularity as a smart gathering place, not only for women shoppers but local businessmen who came in for lunch. Several years later, Emma decided a more homespun motif was in order. Highland Fling was the name she chose, and the setting took on the appearance of a Scottish castle yard, featuring rustic furniture and colourful tartans. Eventually this ambience gave way to one which suggested an Oriental teahouse and drew its inspiration from the elegant decorative elements of the Far East. The café was renamed the China Doll. Then came the Balalaika, redolent of nineteenth-century Russia; after that it was transformed into Riviera Terrace, and in 1960 Emma redid the café yet again. This time she used a sophisticated theme based on the skyline of New York City, lining the walls with giant-sized photographic murals of Manhattan. The decor suggested a big-city roof garden and she called it Skyscrapers. But by the late summer of 1968 Emma had grown tired of this decorative mood, and, as the café needed a complete overhaul at this time, she gave the project to Paula, asking her to create something different.

Paula knew everything there was to know about all of the stores in the Harte chain, and she remembered the photographs she had seen of the original Elizabethan Gazebo. She went into the archives, dug out the original plans and sketches, and was instantly struck by the uniqueness and beauty of the antique birdcages. Since she was aware they were stored in packing cases in the basement, she had them brought up and unwrapped. And so the current theme and the latest name were born.

Paula had the wooden and brass birdcages repainted or repolished and, after finding more to add to the collection, she featured them throughout the restaurant. They stood out beautifully against a background of lime-green wallpaper over-patterned with a sharp white trellis design; white wicker chairs and matching tables with glass tops reiterated the outdoor mood. Paula loved all growing things, was, in fact, a gifted gardener, and so her final, masterful touch was a lush assortment of small trees, flowering shrubs and plants. It was the many pots of hydrangeas and azaleas that gave the Birdcage its cachet, and this real garden within the heart of the store bloomed in all seasons under her personal supervision. Emma had recognized at once that it was an evocation of her own first design and as such a little tribute to her, and she was flattered.

A few minutes after twelve, on this Friday morning, Paula hurried into the Birdcage and as always she was struck by the refreshing sight of the flowers and foliage, one which appeared to cheer everyone up. Moving between the tables, where morning shoppers were settling down to lunch, Paula saw that Miranda O’Neill had already arrived. Her burnished copper hair, cascading in a glorious mass of waves and curls around her heart-shaped face, seemed to catch and hold all the light, was like a shining beacon at the far side of the room. Miranda glanced up from the menu she was perusing, saw Paula, and waved.

‘Sorry I kept you waiting,’ Paula apologized when she reached the table. ‘I was delayed in the Designer Salon. We’ve been having the most awful trouble with the new lighting, and I wanted to check on it again. It’s still not right I’m afraid.’ She bent down and kissed her friend, slipped into the next chair.

Miranda grinned a little impishly, and said, ‘Oh dear, the trials and tribulations of running a store! I’ll swap jobs with you any day. Doing public relations for a chain of hotels can be the pits at times.’

‘If I remember correctly, you really badgered your father for that job.’

‘That’s true. But I wouldn’t have, if I’d known what I was letting myself in for,’ Miranda grumbled, making a long face. But she then had the good grace to laugh, and admitted, ‘I suppose I enjoy it really. It’s only occasionally that I feel the pressure. But right now I’m in Dad’s good books. He’s very happy with my latest campaign, and he even went so far as to say I’d been innovative the other day. That’s praise indeed from him. He’s not given to paying me compliments, as you know. He even said that if I behave myself he’s going to send me to Barbados in a few weeks, to look over the hotel we’ve just bought there. By the time we’ve remodelled it and redecorated, it’ll be super de luxe and as elegant as the Sandy Lane. We all believe it’s going to be an important addition to our chain.’

‘That’s marvellous, Merry. Really exciting for you. Now, shall we order? I don’t want to rush you, but I have to leave the store early today.’

‘No problem, I’m a bit pushed myself.’ Miranda glanced at the menu again, said, ‘I’ll have the plaice and chips, I think.’

‘Good idea. I’ll join you.’ Paula caught the attention of the waitress, ordered, and then turned to Miranda, looking her over quickly, at once captivated by her outfit. Today she was wearing a rather theatrically-styled jerkin with a wide, flaring collar and three-quarter sleeves, and it was laced up the front over a white silk shirt with longer sleeves. There was a twinkle in Paula’s eyes as she said, ‘You look like a female Robin Hood, in all that Sherwood Green suede, Merry. The only things that are missing are a quiver of arrows and a perky little felt hat with a sweeping feather.’

Miranda broke into laughter. ‘Don’t think I don’t have the hat! I do. But I didn’t dare wear it to lunch, in case you’d think I was bonkers. Everyone else does.’ She swivelled in the chair to reveal her legs, which were encased in tight green-suede pants and matching boots that came up above her knees. ‘When Shane saw me this morning he said I looked like the Principal Boy in a pantomime. I went the whole hog with this outfit, I’m afraid. Is it too theatrical?’

‘Not really. And you could have worn the hat. I for one happen to like you in your fanciful costumes.’

Miranda looked pleased. ‘Coming from the elegant you that’s a real compliment.’ Leaning closer, she hurried on, ‘Are you and Jim busy tonight? I was wondering if I could invite you out to dinner?’

‘I’d love you to join us tonight, if you won’t be bored. Grandy’s having a family dinner at Pennistone Royal.’

‘I’m not sure that that’s still on, Paula. Your grandmamma has a hot date with my grandfather.’ Miranda’s laugh held a hint of mischief, which was reflected in her eyes, as she said, ‘Can you imagine, and at their ages!’

Paula was thrown by this statement. ‘Oh, you must be mistaken. I’m certain Grandy intends to be there.’

‘I’m not wrong, honestly I’m not. I heard Shane talking to my father a little while ago. Grandfather is taking Aunt Emma out to dinner. But I was only teasing when I said they had a hot date, since Shane’s going with them.’

‘Then Grandy must have changed her plans,’ Paula said, dreading the thought of the dinner without her grandmother’s presence. ‘I expect my mother will play hostess in her place, since I can’t imagine Grandy actually cancelling it without talking to me first.’

‘No, I don’t think she would do that.’ Leaning forward again, her manner still teasing, Miranda said, ‘When my grandfather and your grandmother get together, they’re incorrigible. I told him the other day that it was about time he made an honest woman out of Aunt Emma and married her.’

‘If anyone’s incorrigible, it’s you, Merry! And what did Uncle Blackie say to that?’

‘He chuckled, and told me he’d only been waiting for my approval, and now that he had it he was going to pop the question. ’Course, I knew he was only kidding me in return. But to tell you the truth, I don’t think it’s such a bad idea, do you?’

Paula merely smiled. She said, ‘Anyway, getting back to the family dinner, you’re very welcome. Come around seven-thirty for drinks. Dinner’s at eight-thirty.’

‘You are a darling, Paula. Thank you. You’ve just rescued me from a boring evening with Ma and Pa. All they do these days is talk about the baby.’

‘I’m not sure your evening with us will be much more stimulating. My mother has become something of a doting grandma. All she does is rave about the twins. I can’t seem to shut her up.’

‘But I adore Aunt Daisy. She’s such a lovely woman, and not a bit like the rest of you – ’ Miranda stopped, horrified at her words. Her pale, freckled face flamed to scarlet.

‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ Paula demanded, a dark brow arching as she pretended to be insulted, but the amusement touching her mouth betrayed her.

‘I didn’t mean it the way it came out,’ Miranda exclaimed in embarrassment. ‘I wasn’t referring to you or Aunt Emma, or your cousins, but to your aunts and uncles actually. I am sorry, though. It was rather rude of me.’

‘Don’t apologize, I happen to agree with you.’ Paula fell silent thinking specifically of her Aunt Edwina, the Dowager Countess of Dunvale, who was due to arrive from Ireland later that day. It was because of Edwina that she and Jim had had their first truly serious quarrel. Some weeks ago, to her utter astonishment and disbelief, Jim had decided that Edwina must be invited to the christening. When Paula had objected, and strenuously so, and had reminded him that Edwina was no favourite of Grandy’s, he had brushed aside her protestations and told her she was being silly. And then he had reminded her that Emma wanted bygones to be bygones, sought peace within the family. ‘Well, you’d better not invite Edwina until I’ve mentioned it to Grandy,’ Paula cautioned, and he had acquiesced to this suggestion, at least. When she had told her grandmother about it, Emma had appeared off-hand, indifferent even, and had told her to accept the situation gracefully, to let him invite Edwina, and to put a good face on it if she accepted. But there had been a strange look in Grandy’s eyes, and Paula suspected that Emma had been disappointed in Jim. As she had herself, but she had overcome this feeling, loving him as much as she did; and she had excused Jim, too, because he had no family of his own to invite to his children’s christening, and Edwina was half Fairley. If only Edwina weren’t so hostile to Emma and to her.

Miranda, studying her friend, saw that she looked troubled, and ventured, ‘You’re awfully pensive all of a sudden, Paula. Is something wrong?’

‘No, no, of course not.’ Paula forced a smile, and changing the subject, she asked, ‘How’s your mother?’

‘Her health’s much better, thanks. Also, I think she’s finally recovered from the shock of getting pregnant at forty-five and giving birth to a change-of-life baby. And little Laura is simply adorable. I love to watch Grandfather playing with her. He’s quite infatuated, and of course he’s thrilled they called her Laura, after my grandmother. They almost gave me that name, you know.’

‘No, I didn’t, Merry.’

‘Yes. Then they changed their minds, I suppose. But I wouldn’t have minded being named for my grandmother, and I certainly wish I’d known her. She must have been a remarkable woman. Everyone loved her so, especially Aunt Emma.’

‘Yes, and Grandy told me, only the other day, that she’s never stopped missing Laura since the day she died.’

‘We’re all muddled up, aren’t we, Paula?’